


The Heroes of Ferelden

by fullfrankfull21



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama & Romance, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-23 13:51:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullfrankfull21/pseuds/fullfrankfull21
Summary: The journey of the last 4 grey wardens during the time of the fifth Blight. Can our heroes make it through their strifes and troubles and fight the darkspawn hordes that plague the land of Ferelden? Join our adventure with Aedan Cousland, Ashara Tabris, Duran Aeducan and Alistair as they fight bandits, demons, darkspawn and beasts to save their homeland from doom.





	1. Chapter 1

“ **And so is the Golden City blackened**

**With each step you take in my Hall.**

**Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.**

**You have brought Sin to Heaven**

**And Doom upon all the world.”**

 

**-Canticle of Threnodies 8:13**

* * *

 

**Prologue**

 

_For generations the Couslands have stewarded over the lands of Highever, earning the loyalty of their people with justice and temperance. Years ago, the late lord Cousland fought against the Orlesian empire with his son, Bryce Cousland, who now rules the teyrn of Highever. Today, teyrn Cousland once again marches his troops against a common enemy with his eldest son, Fergus. However, this was not going to be a battle against the men of Orlais, but against the bestial darkspawn hordes rising in the south._

 

Duncan quickly paced through the main courtyard, passing the many commoners, workers, servants, and soldiers. The stone parapets and walls lining high, Duncan could see a child sitting at the edge overlooking the soldiers marching in formation with a look of awe, he couldn’t help but smile to himself, the innocence of youth had long been lost to him.

 

As he continued walking he was stopped by a knight of Highever, Duncan remembered meeting the man a night prior, his name was Ser Gilmore. “My lord Warden, teyrn Cousland has sent me to inform you that he shall see you now.” the knight said.

 

“Very well, take me to him, if you would be so kind.” Duncan followed the young Ser Gilmore. He was a stout and robust man with a full head of red hair, Duncan had even thought of recruiting Ser Gilmore to the Grey Wardens, Maker knows they would need someone like him.

 

When they finally got to the main keep Ser Gilmore stood aside and gestured towards the door. “Teyrn Cousland and Arl Howe are inside”. With a nod Duncan thanked Ser Gilmore and the young knight went inside to inform the lords of their guest.

 

Inside Duncan heard the two lords talking about the coming events. “I trust your troops will be here by tomorrow then?” teyrn Cousland spoke as he gazed into the fireplace.

 

“I expect them to be arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow. I do apologize for the delay Bryce, this is entirely my fault.” Arl Howe, a tall and thin man with a distinct nose and sharp beard, he was barely a man grown when the war with Orlais first started.

 

“There are no apologies needed Rendon. The appearance of the darkspawn has us all scrambling, doesn’t it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago myself.” the differences between the two lords was night and day, where Howe had grown a more astute and erudite look over his years the teyrn Cousland had only grown more akin to a wizened soldier from his days out in the field. “I shall send my eldest off with the men, you and I shall ride tomorrow, just like the old days.” he said with a hint of a smile.

 

“True.” Howe smiled, “Though if my memory serves me we both had less gray on our hair then. And we were fighting Orlesians, not… whatever those monsters are.”

 

“At least the smell will be the same” the two shared a laugh when Ser Gilmore had finally reached them.

 

“My lords, Ser Duncan of the Grey Wardens is here for his audience.”

 

“Very well, send him in.”

As he entered the keep Duncan greeted both Teyrn Cousland and Arl Howe and the lords responded in kind. There were times when Duncan wished he had a better wardrobe at his disposal when he met with lords and ladies of higher status, though the teyrns, arls and banns of Ferelden were not so judgmental, there was still a feeling of contempt he could sense coming from nobles whenever they saw the man in his worn and dented armor with cuts and slashes all around as well as mud stains, though he often dealt with that by cleaning the plates as much as possible. In opposition to his own look the two lords were dressed in fine satin and silk clothing of bright colors and visible embroidery with laced gold for Cousland and silver for Howe, no doubt representing their statuses in the social ladder of nobility.

 

“Duncan, it is an honor to have you with us.” teyrn Cousland said with a slight bow.

“The honor is mine, my lords.” he curtsied.

“I understand that you are here in search of possible recruits.”

“Indeed, so far I have found a few suitable candidates, though I would hesitate to take away from your own household guard and retinues.”

“Think nothing of it Duncan, the Grey Wardens have been a bulwark against the Blight and the darkspawn for centuries, who am I to deny our stalwart defenders new recruits?”

 

‘ _Someone who holds half of Ferelden’s nobility under him.’_ Duncan thought to himself, inclined to even say it, but he merely nodded in thanks.

 

“If you find yourself short of recruits, feel free to glance at my men as well Duncan, we may be fewer in number here in Highever but you’ll find every Fereldan is worth a dozen darkspawn.” Howe chimed in, his boast of pride being obvious.

 

“I will be sure to take it into consideration my lords, thank you for both your hospitality and cooperation.”

 

Just then, Duncan noticed the side door of the keep open while teyrn Cousland and Arl Howe were discussing military matters. Inside came a young man sharing many features with teyrn Cousland, Duncan quickly recognized the lad as Bryce Cousland’s second son, Aedan. A tall and fair skinned man with black hair and blue eyes the same as his father. Duncan had once met the elder Cousland son, Fergus, in a tourney many years ago in Denerim and while the heir to Highever shared much of his fathers traits Aedan seemed more similar to his mother, teyrna Eleanor Cousland, formerly Eleanor Mac Eanraig.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry pup, I didn’t see you there.” teyrn Cousland greeted the young lad.

“Father,” he said with a bow, “and Arl Howe, it has been a while.”

“It certainly has my boy. I still remember you running around Amaranthine with Thomas and Delilah. I see you’ve grown into a fine young man.”

 

Unlike his father and Arl Howe, Aedan was dressed in a simple garb, the sweat off his skin being clear. It was obvious that the boy was sparring prior to coming here but despite his company Aedan did not seem to mind being poorly dressed for the occasion.

 

“Thank you.” he bowed once again before turning to his father and Duncan. “Oh you’ll have to forgive me Ser, I didn’t notice you at first.” Aedan said in a hurry and greeted the man with a bow.

 

‘ _A polite lad...’_ Duncan thought, slightly raising his brow in surprise as he bowed in return.

“Pup, this is Duncan of the Grey Wardens, he is our honored guest for the time being.” the teyrn said, “He has come here seeking new recruits, it trust you already know of their order?”

 

“Only from what I have heard and read from in legends and tales of old. Great warriors and heroes dating back centuries before Ferelden’s forming. With strength, speed and endurance that many would be envious of.” Duncan could only let out a smile to what he thought were compliments much more suited to the Grey Wardens of old. “Fergus once told me of the time he met a Grey Warden in Denerim, though I can’t quite recall his name.”

 

“I believe you might be referring to Riordan, a senior Grey Warden like myself.” Duncan said.

“Yes, that was the name, Fergus wouldn’t shut his mouth about wanting to join the Wardens for a month after that encounter.” Aedan smiled warmly.

 

“I see Brother Aldous taught you both well.” the teyrn chuckled. “Anyways Pup, I’ve brought you here to tell you that Fergus will be riding out soon, as will I.” the young lords face visibly darkened, it seemed he was very much aware of the situation that was befalling Ferelden. “For the time being I expect you to take care of all affairs regarding Highever and it’s local lords.”

 

“Yes father, I understand.” he said quickly in a low and hushed tone.

 

“There is also the matter of Duncan here.” he gestured to the Warden, “As I’ve already told you he is here seeking recruits before marching south with us to rejoin with his fellow Wardens, I trust that you shall accommodate him to whatever he needs.”

 

“Of course, father.”

 

“Good, now how about you show Duncan to his room and make sure to say goodbye to your brother before he leaves.”

 

“Very well, this way Duncan, if you will.” Aedan finally began moving again and with a bow excused himself, leading Duncan out of the keep. “One more thing though.” Aedan turned with a smile to Howe, “I hear that Thomas has been quite adamant in his training. Would you mind telling him to seek me out if he ever wishes another rematch.”

 

“Hah! He wouldn’t dream of it my boy, we Howe’s don’t make the same mistakes twice.” the arl said with a chuckle.

 

Later, the two traveled to what would be Duncan’s quarters for the next few nights. “Here we are, mother made sure that the servants had the entire place ready for you.” it was a strange feeling, Duncan was not so used to having others wait on him. He was a soldier at heart and his home was the fire he would lie next to every night during his travels. Though a warm meal and soft bed was something he would rarely refuse.

 

“Thank you my lord.” Duncan said simply.

 

“Mother is preparing a small private feast for her and her guests before father leaves, you are welcome as well, if you wish.”

 

“I shall take it into consideration my lord, though first I would like to speak with a few of the recruits I have in my mind for the coming march.”

“Yes, I heard rumors that perhaps you will be asking Ser Gilmore.”

“Did you now?”

“Indeed, though I am sure that I would get more credible information from the Grey Warden himself. Have no fear though, I have no intention to pry.”

“If I may be so bold my lord, you would make quite the suitable candidate.”

“You flatter me, however I have no dreams or aspirations of becoming a knight in shinning armor, my place is here in Highever, with my family.”

 

‘ _If only so many other nobles thought like you young Aedan.’_ he remembered the many faces of men and women eager to be the hero of their story, thinking that joining the Grey Wardens would be the first step of the ladder in their ascent to legend. Duncan was the same so many years ago, he was a young lad when he was first recruited, not even a day past sixteen before he participated in the joining. Many of those same men and women soon learned what being a Grey Warden really meant. ‘ _Perhaps that is why you would be a perfect Warden.’_ Duncan thought.

 

“Anyway, if there is anything more you need then feel free to ask for me.” Aedan said with a smile, which quickly faded. “Father made me temporary lord of Highever, which means all the responsibility that comes with the title.” he sighed and quickly rubbed his brow.

 

“You wish to be out there, do you not? Marching alongside your father and brother.” Duncan said to the boy, noticing his reluctance at the notion.

 

“No… I mean yes… I mean no… I mean-...”

 

“It is alright my lord. I see the fire in your eyes, you shall have many opportunities to distinguish yourself. A man of your stature, as well as someone of such high skill, is sure to earn much glory in no time.”

 

“It is not glory I wish.” Aedan said with a furrowed brow, crossing his arms. “I merely want this blasted _Blight_ to be over with as soon as possible. The longer it carries on the more people suffer.”

 

“That is the case for many wars in general my lord.” Duncan crossed his arms behind his back and looked at the young boy with a curious gaze.

 

“I know, I know, it’s just… never mind, it is not my place to be saying such things. I trust in King Cailan and I trust in the Grey Wardens, my only hope is that this Blight is stopped before it even truly begins.”

 

“As do we all, my lord.”

* * *

 

**Later…**

 

Night had already fallen and it looked like Duncan would have to wait until tomorrow to finish questioning all the potential recruits. As he originally thought Ser Gilmore was still the most promising, at least out of the available batch of people. Duncan found himself once again thinking of the young Cousland boy, Aedan. He was much unlike the other noble sons Duncan had met over the years since his promotion to Warden-Commander.

Wanting a moment of rest Duncan sat down on the feather-filled bed, his armor still clicking and clanging with each of his movements. _“_ _The longer it carries on the more people suffer.”_ those words still rang throughout Duncan’s head. The truth about it all was not so far off, in fact it was the entire truth. King Cailan had entrusted much to the Grey Wardens, confident in their abilities and knowledge against the Darkspawn. But while the armies of Ferelden gather at Ostagar, the darkspawn form warbands to raid and pillage across the rest of the land. He had hoped whatever plan the king was hatching in Ostagar would bear fruit soon, or it will spell doom for all.

 

Suddenly, a servant burst through the door. “My lord! We’re under attack!” he said in haste. Duncan grabbed his sword in instinct as he rushed over to the servant.

 

“Attacked? By who?” Duncan asked.

“Arl Howe’s men my lord! They suddenly just started slaughtering us!”

 

“What?” that was all Duncan could say. Arl Howe was a loyal bannerman for the teyrnir of Highever for decades, why would he choose to do such a thing?

 

Before the servant could explain any further Duncan hushed him as he heard armored footsteps coming closer and closer. It wasn’t long before he saw the source of the footsteps, Howe’s men, the sigil of his Arldom plastered upon their shields and on the pin of one of the men who was armored much more than the others following him.

 

“Go, warn the others, try and find the household guard if you can.” he said as he drew the dagger from his side and faced the approaching soldiers.

 

“They’re all in the main keep my lord, trying to keep the Howe’s from storming the gates.”

“Then run, save yourself and the other servants.”

 

Without even a word the soldiers began attacking Duncan but it didn’t take long for him to dispatch them. They were drunk, not on wine or ale however, but on pride and passion. The blood on their blades showed that they already started with the slaughter, the many corpses of servants that littered the streets gave the answer as to who they killed first.

 

Without a thought Duncan ran through the streets of Highever, killing any Howe men who tried to do the same to him, and saving any Cousland guardsmen that he came upon. It was only after a frantic search that he had found the teyrn, locked in combat with several of Howe’s soldiers whilst being backed into a corner. With sword and shield in hand Bryce Cousland was still not lost in the art of war.

 

Duncan quickly jumped in to help the teyrn but was stopped halfway by another soldier. This one was wearing massive iron armor and a heavy greataxe. “Not so fast.” he growled as he swung his axe towards Duncan. With a dodge Duncan quickly killed the knight with a dagger in the throat, all his armor did no good when his neck was so exposed.

 

He took care of him quickly, but not quickly enough as when Duncan turned back to teyrn Cousland he saw him clutching at a dagger logged in his side, though all of his former opponents were dead.

 

“My lord.” he said calmly.

“Duncan, thank the Maker you’re safe.” Cousland quickly pulled the dagger out of his side with a grunt of pain. “Please… you have to go and find my family. Aedan, Eleanor, Oren, Oriana… Howe had already gotten to them, I pray he intends to take them as hostages.”

 

“I fear the Arl’s intentions are not so noble my lordship.”

 

“Rendon… you bastard… what could have made you think this was a good idea.” he said under heavy breaths. “There is no time, we must go and find my family before they too are slaughtered.” the teyrn tried to start walking but his wound had cut too deep, and there were many others that the Cousland did not even take into account during the fight, he was still high on adrenaline.

 

“You will not be able to make that journey my lord. Is there anywhere you can be safe for now?” Duncan asked.

 

“Yes, there’s a secret tunnel through the storage rooms just around the corner. But I’m not about to tuck tail and run, abandoning my family at the first sign of peril.”

 

“You needn’t fear, I shall find your family, take care of yourself until then, here is a poultice just in case.”

* * *

 

**Meanwhile…**

 

As he thrust his sword into one of the men he could hear the grunt of pain as blood leaked from his wound. Aedan quickly followed up the attack with a blow to the head with his shield, knocking his assailant down. It didn’t take long before he stopped twitching.

 

“Is it over?” he muttered to himself, looking on at the four dead soldiers in front of him. It was a miracle that he had managed to survive, and not only that, but he managed to take them on before they could get to her. “Iona, you can come out now, it’s safe.” he said, banging on the door. The elf girl slowly opened it, coming out clothed in a hastily put-on doublet and pants, she was much too small to be a good fit in them but it was better than walking around naked.

 

“Are you alright my lord? Are you wounded?” Iona asked, glancing around him to see for any injuries.

 

“Just my pride it would seem.” he looked at the torn and burnt paintings of his father and mother. “Are _you_ hurt, Iona?” he glanced back at the young elf girl.

 

“Only a scratch my lord.” she pointed to the wound on her cheek where an arrow had grazed her. “I am glad to have been with you when I did, I dread the thought of what would have happened to me if you were not there.”

 

Iona was a lady-in-waiting under the care of Lady Landra, a dear friend of Aedan’s mother. Aedan had taken a fancy to her and after the feast the two had found each other in bed during the night. She was a sweet and kind girl, and Lady Landra did not help the girl’s timid nature with trying to play matchmaker, but he found her personality charming and she was certainly beautiful. Their little adventure was cut short however when Aedan heard the sounds of fighting. It was lucky he managed to put on what little armor that he did, if he hadn’t then Aedan was sure to be on the ground littered with arrows.

A thought dashed across Aedan’s mind and he sprinted into his mother and fathers room. Thankfully, they were not there but Aedan’s fear was still real. There was no doubt about it, those were Howe’s men, they wore his sigil. But why? Why would Howe do such a thing?

 

“My lord?” Iona snapped Aedan from his thoughts. “There’s fighting coming from all over the castle. What are we going to do?” she was scared, it wasn’t hard to see that, but Aedan was scared as well. He dread to think where Oriana and little Oren were, they were not in their chambers, just like mother and father.

 

“Stay close to me, I’ll protect you.” he said, trying his best to be brave just like his father taught him. “If we come across any more soldiers you stay far away from the fighting, alright?” she nodded. “And if the worst happens...” he paused, “… you run, run and don’t let them catch you.”

 

And so the two began running. Aedan couldn’t help the crushing feeling in his heart, he wanted to stay and fight, the two of them ran past many screams and shouts in the distance. He wanted to run to each of them, but if it wasn’t for Iona gripping his arm he just might have. Their running was interrupted when they finally reached the main keep, where sounds of combat were coming from inside.

 

“Hold the gates! Don’t let the bastards through!” Aedan could hear a voice coming from inside, one he could clearly recognize, it was Ser Gilmore.

 

He immediately barged into the keep with Iona still close behind him to see Ser Gilmore, clad in his massive plate armor of Red Steel alongside many Cousland guardsmen holding the gate. It looked like a battle had just been fought here. “Ser Gilmore!” he shouted to the knight.

 

“My lord! Thank the Maker you’re safe, I had been fearing the worst ever since the Howe’s first attacked.” Ser Gilmore said, retrieving his greatsword that was impaled deep in the corpse of a dead mage lying on the ground. “Lady Iona, it is good to see you as well.”

 

“Ser Gilmore, please, do you know anything of where Lady Landra and Dairren are?” the young elf asked.

“No my lady, I’m sorry.”

“And what of my mother and father? What of Oren and Oriana?” Aedan asked to which Gilmore did not respond, but his grim look said that he did not know.

 

Their conversation was cut short with a loud bang coming from the gates, they were slowly bringing it down and the men could only hold for so long. “My lord, my lady, you must go. We’ll hold them off.”

 

“What?! No, absolutely not. I’m staying and fighting here with you. I won’t let you all die because of me!” Aedan said, anger in his voice.

“You must leave, my lord. If you were to stay here and die lady Iona would suffer the same fate.” Ser Gilmore said in a calm and collected fashion, letting out a confident smile Aedan knew he used to hide his fear.

“Please, Aedan...” he could feel Iona’s hand grasping at his own as she looked at him with sorrowful eyes. “The last thing I want is to see you killed.”

“I...”

“Don’t worry about me my lo-… Aedan, It’ll take more than these poor wretches to take me on!” Ser Gilmore smiled once more.

 

With a long sigh, Aedan looked Ser Gilmore in the eyes. “Thank you, Ser Gilmore… for everything.”

 

“It was an honor to serve you. Now go!”

 

And like that the two began running again, once they gained some distance Aedan could hear that the gates had been broken, and the fighting began once again. It was not long until Aedan and Iona ran across a battle happening between two Cousland guards against six Howe soldiers. “Stay here, hide.” he told Iona. Before she could respond or object Aedan was already gone this time, running to help his soldiers.

 

With a war cry Aedan charged and rammed his shield into the closest Howe soldier, knocking him down and quickly plunging the blade into his opponent, killing them. One of the Cousland guards managed to kill another Howe soldier but he himself died when a knight in massive iron armor plunged his greatsword into the guardsman. Now only one other guardsman remained to stand by him against the assailants. It was two against four.

 

“My lord?!” the guard looked stunned, so much so he didn’t even notice the arrow flying towards him. Aedan quickly moved his shield to cover the guardsman’s head and shield him from the arrow. That was when he noticed the two archers in the distance aiming carefully as to not hit their own men.

 

“Shield up, soldier! Stick close to me!” he ordered.

“Y-yes my lord!”

 

The knight in massive armor was the first to charge at Aedan with his giant greatsword. There was one weakness that greatswords had, they were good at range but if you manage to get close then they were practically useless, and Aedan did just that.

 

With a mighty swing the knight brought down his greatsword which Aedan blocked with his shield and then tilted to make the blade slide down. The other guardsmen held off the three Howe soldiers who in the end proved inexperienced as he managed to take down two of them already. Aedan went in close to the knight and pulled a dagger out of the belt of the knight before thrusting said dagger into the knight’s throat. The third regular Howe soldier was quickly dispatched by the Cousland guardsman, now all that was left were the archers.

 

With his shield raised high Aedan once again charged, with the guardsman following quickly behind. While the archers had no more friendly targets they needed to worry about they did not have much time to aim their arrows as Aedan was upon them sooner than they could notice it. Again he rammed one of the archers and bashed the other, knocking both on the ground and killing them off quick. It was probably more of a merciful death than the ones Howe would have given Aedan or his family.

 

In the distance he could still see Iona huddled in a corner looking off towards Aedan. He gestured for her so she knew it was safe.

 

“Thank you my lord, I thought I was done for.” the guardsman said. “Where are the others?”

“In the keep, with Ser Gilmore.” Aedan said, pointing towards where the smoke was coming from.

“Very well, take care and get yourself and your lady somewhere safe.” he said and quickly ran off towards the keep.

 

Aedan felt disturbed at how quickly and willingly the guardsman was willing to run off to his death, knowingly even. Was it really all for his family? For a family the man never even truly knew?

 

Once again, Aedan felt Iona’s hand clasping his. “Where are we going? Is there anywhere to _go_ even?” she asked.

 

“Don’t worry, there’s a secret passageway close by, we’ll take that along with any supplies we can find in the storage room.” it hurt him to say those words. He wanted to stay and fight, to find Howe and… ask him… ask him why he would do something like this.

 

Iona breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank the Maker.”

“Let’s keep moving before more find us.”

 

After even more running they finally reached the kitchens where he saw Nan, bruised, beaten and butchered. He couldn’t show his weakness now, he wanted to throw up, to take revenge, but he couldn’t, not now. Through the kitchens and towards the storage room Aedan and Iona saw a trail of blood leading inside. Had the Howe’s found the escape?

 

Inside however, there was not a Howe but a Cousland, his father, lying on the ground with wounds all over him. Beside him was Aedan’s mother who was trying to treat fathers wounds. “Father! Mother!” he called out to them.

 

“Oh Aedan, thank the Maker!” his mother rushed and hugged the young lad.

“Pup, did Duncan send you here?” his father said, panting and heaving.

“Duncan? No, Iona and I got here on our own, thanks to Ser Gilmore.”

“My lady forgive me but… Lady Landra… did you see here anywhere?” Iona asked.

“Landra… she...” teyrna Cousland could not finish her sentence.

“Oh...” Iona made no face, she merely looked down.

“But wait, Pup, if you two got here on your own, where is Duncan?” his father asked.

 

“I was fighting off the Howe’s whilst trying to find your grandson and daughter-in-law my lord.” Duncan walked into the storeroom, covered in blood but unlike Aedan’s father it was not his own.

 

“And? Did you find them?” his mother asked frantically.

“No, my lady… I fear I have not.”

 

“Damn you Howe! I swear, if he did anything to them-…” teyrn Cousland tried to get back up on his feet but with a hurdling scream he came crashing down, it was obvious that he would not be able to get back up again without help.

 

“Bryce! Careful, you’re still too wounded.” Aedan’s mother said as she held her wounded husband.

“It’s too late for me love, I fear I won’t be able to make it.”

“Hush, don’t say that. You’ll be alright, it’s all going to be alright.”

 

His mother was on the verge of tears while Aedan could only be silent. He knew what they were about to say. It was the same thing everyone had been saying to him. “Pup, look at me.” Aedan hesitated, but in the end he had to. He saw his father’s face, his skin pale from blood loss. “Go, leave through the escape tunnel with Duncan. Go with him to Ostagar, tell the king what happened here.” he clutched his wound harder.

 

“No! I will not keep running! I won’t let anyone else die because of me! _For me!_ ” Aedan said, pacing around in an anger-filled outburst.

“Listen to me Pup, please, there is no other way.” his father pleaded.

“There is always another way! _Always!_ ”

 

“Yes, there is.” Duncan interrupted the young noble’s rage, a calm and soothing voice overtaking his own. “You are right to want to stay with your family my lord, and if you do so you can share their fate.” he explained, “Or you can come with me, you and the young lady. I shall keep you safe on the journey to Ostagar.”

 

“Me and Iona? But what about mother?”

“I shall stay here, with your father.”

 

“Mother, no-...” once again Duncan interrupted him.

 

“I have agreed with your father that I invoke the Right of Conscription upon you.” Duncan crossed his arms as Aedan’s eyes shot up towards the Grey Warden-Commander.

 

He couldn’t say anything, he was shocked, angry, sad, appaled, disgusted with both himself and with Howe. And yet, deep in his heart he knew what needed to be done. His mother was not about to abandon father and while Aedan would not think Duncan would do such a thing, he could not be sure that the Warden would not simply leave her here as well.

 

“I… very well, I understand.” he felt small, as small as he was when his father sent him to the Howe’s to be a ward. As small as he felt this morning, when he was seeing off his brother. As small as he had felt most of his life.

 

“We love you Aedan, now and forever...” his mother said.

“Now and forever...” his father repeated.

“I-...”

 

The sounds of footsteps quickly began to come closer and closer. “We haven’t much time, hurry!” Duncan said as he lead Iona to the escape tunnel.

 

With a soft glance and exchanged, sad smiles Aedan ran towards the tunnel following Duncan, with nary a word spoken.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“ **Brave of you sir, to so**

**openly cast an envious eye**

**towards me and mine.**

**I suggest you look elsewhere**

**lest I consider removing your sight in a more**

**permanent fashion.”**

 

**-William Cousland**


	2. Ostagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the wind that stirs  
> their shallow graves  
> carries their song  
> across the sands
> 
> heed our words  
> hear our cry  
> the grey are sworn  
> in peace we lie
> 
> heed our words  
> hear our cry  
> our names recalled  
> we cannot die
> 
> when darkness comes  
> and swallows light  
> heed our words  
> and we shall rise
> 
> -The Ballad of Ayesleigh

**OSTAGAR**

 

“In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. And in… in...” the elf girl stammered to remember.

“In death, sacrifice. Rather depressing if you ask me.” Alistair said.

“My mother once told me that the Maker always smiles upon the Grey Wardens sadly, because their sacrifice is among the greatest of them all.”

 

‘ _I guess that’s one way to look at it’_ Alistair thought to himself as he and the recruit walked along the great wall overlooking the Korcari Wilds. When Duncan first told him they would be heading to Ostagar to face off with the darkspawn Alistair had expected things to be far more tense, though granted there was no lack of arguments, brawls, desertions, drunken streakings and doomsday preachers. In an attempt to bolster the numbers of the Grey Wardens before their battle with the hordes Duncan and a few more senior Wardens had went off to search for potential candidates, though many returned empty-handed. Alistair had volunteered to go with Duncan but as always Duncan insisted he should stay.

 

“Alistair?” the girl snapped him from his thoughts.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Do you know when Duncan will be coming back?” she clasped her hands together.

“Sadly, no. He usually doesn’t tell me where he goes off to. Probably to make sure I don’t follow after him.”

“Oh... alright...”

 

The girl was Ashara Tabris. One of the two recruits that Duncan had brought from the Denerim Alienage, before he had gone off again. With pale blond hair wrapped around in a ponytail, bright green eyes, and a rather frail physique she did not seem to be the type for combat. She could handle knives and a bow well enough but anything heavier than a sword seemed to be a lost cause. When she first arrived Alistair had trouble even communicating with her as she would often avoid any contact with others and when the two did speak she would often find her stuttering and grasping at words. Before he left, Duncan had instructed him to try and do his best to take care of the recruits before the joining, which also included having to train Ashara in how fighting worked.

 

That was where he learned the girls combat abilities, or rather lack there of. She was quick on her feet to be sure but too scared of getting hurt to try and actually land a hit in. One time she actually followed Alistair’s instructions and fought back while the two were using simple training weapons, even managing to get a good jab in the gut with a wooden dagger. She then immediately began apologizing for the rest of the day.

 

He had no idea why someone like her wanted to be a part of the Grey Wardens, though from what Alistair found out Duncan had to use the Right of Conscription for her to be able to join.

 

Over time she at least learned how to handle a bow, even proving to be somewhat of an adept at it. _‘Maybe that’s because she’s an elf?’_ He knew a Grey Warden who once belonged to a Dalish Elf clan, they say his elf eyes made him the greatest archer in the order, Bregan they called him. What she lacked in weapon and combat training though Ashara made up for with a personal skill, quick fingers. She proved to be good with picking locks and pockets but it took Alistair a lot of prying to see her actually show it off to him.

Despite all that Alistair couldn’t complain. He rather liked the odd moments when he was able to actually talk to Ashara, telling her his bad jokes, making her laugh and making her a bit more comfortable around him. It gave him some reprieve at least and it was far more than what he could say for the second recruit, the dwarf.

 

“Ashara, I’m going to be heading back now, what about you?”

“Oh, I’ll stay here for a bit longer.” she said, “If that’s alright.”

“It’s fine. I’ll see you later then.”

 

And with a wave he was off to see where the other recruit was. There was not much to do at Ostagar, the soldiers mostly kept themselves busy by either standing watch on the guard towers or by the tents of their lords, the more important knights were tasked with drilling freshly acquire levies, and everyone else was left to their own devices. It was certainly a sight to see. At some parts of the ruined castle you could find hundreds of Ash Warriors, as they called themselves, with stripped mabari hounds they tattooed in various colors. On the other side you would find the king’s men, wide-eyed and ready for war, thinking they’ll kill the Archdemon themselves. Alistair disliked them almost as much as he disliked the dwarf but at least morale was being kept high.

 

Ashara was the first to come with Duncan to Ostagar, it wasn’t long after that Duncan had also brought Duran. He was a nasty little dwarf with a quick temper and a habit of getting drunk, which only made his bouts of anger more frequent. In the two weeks he had been here there were only three nights were he hadn’t started a brawl because one of the soldiers flew an insult at him or made a joke at his expense, and those three times were because he drank so much he couldn’t even stand. One time he even tried to knock out a tranquil because he kept ‘looking at him funny’. It was a sorry sight, but despite the brawls all the soldiers still insist on provoking him, maybe because of the size difference.

 

Still, keeping watch of the recruits is what Alistair assigned himself to try and keep busy. With Ashara it was easier, she was shy but she wasn’t unmanageable and if you told her to stay in one place she would stay there until her bones gave in. With Duran it was like trying to operate an unruly grenade, you never knew when it was going to set off. It was not as if Alistair was trying to act like he was better than them, he often hated being put in charge of things. Leading suited Duncan better.

 

Ostagar was a large place but Alistair knew his way around by now, it also helped that he knew exactly where to look for Duran. On the way there he passed through the mages side of Ostagar, guarded by the templars. Every time he looked at one of the templars Alistair would start imagining what it would have been like to fully become one of them, have the priests start giving you doses of lyrium, hunting apostates, growing old only to start going into withdrawal. It was a life Alistair was happy he managed to avoid, though the life of a Grey Warden was not all it was cracked up to be either. Alistair always assumed that Ashara and Duran knew about the risks the surround the joining, about what happens to those that fail it, but he refrained himself from talking about it with them. He still remembered his own joining, there were three of them, Alistair, a rogue named Daveth and a knight from Redcliffe named Ser Jory. Alistair was the only one that survived.

 

It didn’t take long until he finally found the dwarf sitting on a table with a mug and a keg of beer right next to him. Before he arrive that spot was where men would go and drink after a day’s work, now it’s just ‘the dwarfs spot’. It didn’t surprise Alistair that Duran was also unconscious.

‘ _I wonder if he blacked out or someone knocked him out.’_ Alistair thought. He didn’t have much time to think though as a voice called out to him.

 

“Alistair?” worse yet he recognized the voice, much to his own dismay.

 

“Oh dear sweet Andraste no...” he mumbled under his breath. It was the revered mother of all people, she often had a habit of ambushing him when he was by himself, even back during the Chantry days.

 

“My oh my it’s been so long hasn’t it?” she approached him with a smile, one Alistair recognized agonizingly well.

“Yes revered mother, two months.” if she planned to put up a little game first then Alistair was ready to do the same, and so he smiled back.

“I still can’t fathom how much you’ve grown...” she put her fingers on her chin, “back in the chantry, when you were still a small boy you would lock yourself in your room for hours, refusing to let anyone in. Ser Rosemund even had to break open the door once so we could get you some food to eat.”

“Mhm.”

“And all those nights you and I spent trying to get you to read and memorize the chants, wasn’t that fun?”

“To die for even...”

“Say, Alistair, while you’re here...” she pulled out a small note from her sleeve.

 

‘ _There it is.’_ Alistair thought.

 

“Would you mind getting a letter to an associate from the Mages Circle for me? If it isn’t too much trouble.”

“For you revered mother? Anything.” he said sarcastically, and though it was not lost on the revered mother she didn’t even bat an eyelash at it.

“Perfect, thank you so much my dear boy. Well, I’m off. Take care Alistair.”

 

Once the revered mother got out of mind-reading distance Alistair was able to freely think of every possible curse word he wanted to throw at her alongside the note. Ever since he was a child back in the Chantry the revered mother knew when and how to manipulate him perfectly, over time he would learn all of her tricks and deception and yet still she found new ways into making him to what she wanted, at some point in his life Alistair simply gave up trying and just did what she asked him to do. This letter was the least tedious thing in his long list of favors.

 

He glanced over again to Duran to see if the dwarf hadn’t magically wandered off somewhere but thankfully he was where he always was, dead drunk and sitting on that damnable table. Confident in the knowledge that his future Grey Warden brother-in-arms wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next few hours, brave Ser Alistair embarked on his epic quest to deliver a letter. If he was going to be running errands for the revered mother, he thought it best to just make like the old days and think of it as an extremely bland adventure.

 

“Well, at least it’s a sunny day.”

 

**Meanwhile…**

 

Duncan and Aedan approached the bridge that served as an entrance to Ostagar. It took them a week’s traveling by both horse and foot but the immediate danger of the Howe’s was long past them. During their travels they went past a small farming village named Lothering which served as a crossroads point between the Arldom of Redcliffe and the capital city of Ferelden, Denerim. It was there that Iona had decided to break off from traveling with the two.

 

“I told my daughter I would return to her in the alienage after my trip to Highever, she’s still expecting me.” she said. “I would not be much use to you in Ostagar my lord, a simple lady-in-waiting has no place amidst an army.”

 

Aedan was quick to understand her situation and the two parted ways, though reluctantly. He knew she was right, Ostagar was no place for someone like her and Iona would be much safer off in Denerim than continuing to travel the road with two men who seemed more accustomed as traveling sellswords than a nobleman’s son and a Commander of the Grey.

 

“So this is Ostagar.” Aedan looked off across the narrow bridge in the distance to the ruined castle.

“Indeed. It is where King Cailan has decided to face off against the darkspawn hordes and plans to put a stop to the Blight.”

“You don’t sound very confident.”

“You would be correct, but only partially.” Duncan said as the two approached the bridge. “I am confident that the king has a plan, my doubt lies in the fact of if that plan will work.”

“My father once said that King Cailan is many things, but an incompetent commander he is not. I would gladly put my trust in both my father’s words and in the king’s own abilities if it truly means stopping the Blight.”

“Faith can often times be a powerful tool young man.” he stopped and put a hand on Aedan’s shoulder. “But it can often lead to doom as well.”

“I know that,” Aedan said quietly, “but I have to believe in _something_ , especially after-...”

 

“By the flames of Andraste! If it isn’t Duncan.” a cheerful voice came calling from the distance as both Aedan and Duncan turned to see none other than King Cailan, ever present with his shining golden armor, coming to greet them with a smile whilst being accompanied by a small retinue of guardsmen.

 

“Your grace!” Duncan said as he bowed in a hurry, being as shocked as Aedan was that the king would come out to greet them himself. Though Aedan thought that the kings greetings were more for Duncan.

 

“Oh come now, there’s no need for such formalities.” he reach out his arm to shake hands with Duncan. “You’ve been gone for some time now, I was beginning to worry the darkspawn might have gotten you.” he said cheerfully.

 

“Not to worry my king, I am not that old yet.” Duncan chuckled.

 

“And who is this? A new Warden recruit?” Cailan turned his attention to the ragged looking Aedan, still wearing the armor, now dented and bashed and dirty, he barely managed to scrape on during the attack on the Highever keep.

 

“Aedan Cousland your grace, it is an honor.” he crossed his arms and bowed his head, just like his mother and father had taught him.

“Cousland? You’re Bryce’s youngest aren’t you?” Cailan said to which Aedan responded with a nod of his head, the memory of his dying parents still a fresh wound in his mind. “Yes, I remember now. We meet once during a tourney in Highever, didn’t we? You’ll have to pardon my memory.”

 

Their first and only encounter was brief and was not much more than mere trivialities with a dash of general courtesy. In truth Aedan had also forgotten much of what happened all those years ago. They say that the life of a nobleman is dull compared to that of a commoner which makes them forget things more often. Despite that, a nobleman shall hold a grudge far longer than a farmer. Aedan was finally beginning to learn the meaning behind why the held such a truth.

 

“We did your grace, though I fear that was during much better times.” Aedan said with a grim expression.

“Isn’t that the truth? A Blight is never a time for revelry.” Cailan responded, not aware of what the young Cousland had truly meant. “But often I find that even in the darkest times we should find things to hope for.” the king smiled once more, “Still, it is good that you have come as we’ll need every blade available for the upcoming battle. Your brother Fergus arrived only two days ago and he’s already put himself to work.”

That was when Aedan’s eyes shot up, a dash of hope lighting up his face. “Fergus is here?! Where is he now your grace?!” he asked.

“He is off scouting the wilds. Tell me, when will your father be arriving? Soon I hope.”

 

Whatever hope had garnered in Aedan quickly dashed away. His brother made it to Ostagar, for that he was grateful. It almost made him forget about father and mother, it did not help that the king mentioned it.

 

“He… will not be coming… your grace” Aedan said, whatever life in his voice quickly running back inside his broken spirit.

“Pardon?” Cailan looked at the young Cousland boy with perplexed eyes.

“My father and mother were slain my king. By Arl Howe.” he said blankly.

“What?!” Cailan took a step forward, “Howe? Rendon Howe?! He was the Cousland’s sworn vassal for decades, why would he do such a thing?”

 

Aedan remained silent, he did not want to say anything, he was afraid that his own anger may get the better of him, and he would say things that he would regret.

 

“We do not know your grace.” Duncan chimmed in. “Perhaps he thought he could blame the darkspawn for sacking Highever, and once the Blight had been dealt with you would have granted _him_ the teyrnir.”

 

Cailan looked furious. He turned behind and began pacing angrily in contemplation, his retinue of guards making way. “That traitor.” he growled, “Did he honestly believe I would let him get away with this?”

 

As he regained his composure the king turned back to Aedan and gave him an apologetic look. “Aedan was it?” the Cousland nodded, “You have my sincere condolences, and my promise that once we are finished dealing with this Blight that I shall gather my army and personally march on Amaranthine to deliver justice.”

 

“Thank you… my king.”

“You needn’t mention it my friend.” the king, now slightly calmer, turned to Duncan. “I have much to prepare for Duncan, for now I shall leave you two but I expect to find you at the war table once everything is in order.”

 

“Of course your grace.” Duncan responded.

 

“I must go now, Loghain awaits for me at my tent. Maker guide you both.” and so the King marched with his retinue in tow across the bridge leading into Ostagar, his massive plate armor that looked to be made of solid gold was shinning brightly under the sun’s ray.

 

Aedan was reminded of that day in Highever, during the tourney when he first met Cailan. He was a few years older than him but much taller than Aedan at that age. With long golden blond hair and soft green eyes he looked every bit like a prince from the fairy tales of old. Alongside him was also his once-betrothed and now queen, Anora Theirin, formerly Anora Mac Tir. They often say that it was Anora who truly ruled Ferelden, but when Aedan saw Cailan now he could not imagine how a man like him would be a bad king.

 

“I must go and make preparations as well my friend.” Duncan interrupted Aedan’s train of thought.

“Were will I find you Duncan?” Aedan asked.

“We have a camp across the bridge and west of there, it will be easy to find. For now, get yourself situated, feel free to buy yourself some supplies from the quartermaster as well.” he tossed Aedan a pouch, inside were 10 sovereigns. “After that I would suggest finding Alistair and the two other recruits.”

 

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you in the camp then.” Aedan said with a sigh.

“Have patience, the king rarely will go back on his word.”

 

As Duncan left, going along the same path as the king, Aedan looked up at the blue sky. “Well, at least it’s a sunny day.”


End file.
